


Escape Route

by Nellsie



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Road Trips, Running Away, Teen Angst, Trans Character, Trans Hong Kong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 11:38:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8577004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nellsie/pseuds/Nellsie
Summary: Belated birthday fic for a friend.Leon and Emil go on a road-trip driven by a rushed, impulsive, teenage decision.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [egg_oeuf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/egg_oeuf/gifts).



On the twenty-eighth of June, a binder is delivered to Leon’s house. His parents say that _this i_ _s_ _the last straw, Leona._ And Leon corrects them because _he’s_ their _son_ and _his_ name is _Leon._

* * *

On the first day of July, Emil and Leon run away from a neighborhood full of pastel-colored houses and false faces.

They take Emil’s car, and all the money they’ve ever saved. (Leon takes some from his mother’s purse. She won’t miss it. She’ll barely miss him) Emil drives, and drives, and drives.

* * *

At first, the ride is too quiet, and neither of them can muster up the energy to fill the silence.

Leon looks out the window and takes note of all the things they pass, and Emil keeps his eyes on the road. Leon hates the quiet, but he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say.

Part of him―a big part of him, like, most of him―really wants to break the silence by kissing Emil, but Leon _always_ wants to kiss Emil. (Except now, he actually can. That thought always makes him giddy beyond belief.)

Another part of him―the smaller, more reasonable part of him―thinks that’s a stupid idea. If Leon were to do that, he could _easily_ make things more awkward, and if he didn’t make things more awkward, who’s to say it would break the silence at all? It’d be a momentary distraction, (longer than momentary, maybe) but it probably wouldn’t end the silence in its entirety.

Still, Leon _hates_ the quiet. He hates that neither of them will initiate a conversation, but he really, _really_ doesn’t know what to say.

Is it going to be like this for the whole ride? It’s a long drive, and Leon can’t bear the thought of it being quiet for _that long._ And he really doesn’t want to think about going that long without kissing Emil. That sounds awful.

He just needs to say something, something, _something._

“Hey.” He says, looking at Emil. They’re driving on a highway full of traffic. It’s a good place to start a conversation.

Emil doesn’t glance away from the road for a moment, then he looks at Leon with surprise. “Hi.” He says, and Leon realizes he hadn’t planned this far into the conversation. _Fuck._

“Like, hey.” He doesn’t think before he says it, and then he resists the overwhelming urge to slam his head into the dashboard. “So… how long have we been driving?” He amends. That’s a good word. _Amends._

Emil’s brow furrows for a moment, because he’s _thinking,_ and then he replies. “A while.” He says, and Leon can’t help the smile that crosses his face for a moment.

“A while.” He repeats, as if he were some kind of echo. (He does like having the last word)

Not much changes, after that. It’s still more quiet than Leon would like, and there’s _so much_ less kissing than Leon would like, but there is a sort of ease that passes over them both. Emil leans back in his seat, like he’s relieved.

* * *

At some point they pull over, and for the second time, they sleep in the car. Leon tells Emil to sleep in the backseat (it’s his turn) and Emil’s hesitant, like he wants to bear the responsibility of driving _and_ sleeping uncomfortably, but Leon brushes him off.

(He sleeps like a baby, and Leon feels bad for letting his boyfriend― _boyfriend,_ Leon loves that word incrementally more than he did before he had one―sleep in the front on the first night)

It takes a while to get comfortable. Leon keeps having to change sleeping positions and can’t stop _thinking._ It’s kind of upsetting that his thoughts don’t have an off switch.

Because he keeps thinking about _his parents_ and _Emil’s parents_ and how likely it is that neither of them are going to be able to pull this off, and aside from that, he keeps thinking about _Emil._

Emil is perfect―more than perfect―Emil is so many things. Most of them are adjectives, very, very repetitive adjectives that describe his violet eyes and light hair and the fact that he’s in love with, like, the _worst_ person to be in love with.

It feels like Leon is the worst person to be in love with, at least. He and Emil are on this big ridiculous journey because Leon’s parents really want him to lie to himself (and everyone he knows) for the rest of his life.

They’re setting out to find Emil’s brother, because he’ll understand, probably. Emil hasn’t talked to him in, like, _years,_ apparently. Erik Thomassen is kind of like a ghost, but Emil has his address, and Leon has nowhere else to turn.

All of Leon’s siblings moved out as soon as possible, and Leon turned seventeen _yesterday._ He has no other options. (Unless he goes home, which will probably lead to him promising he’ll _never_ see Emil again, and swearing that his gender is some kind of delusion. The thought makes him sick to his stomach.)

And how do _Emil’s_ parents feel about this? Leon doesn’t even want to think about it. They probably said something shitty. Something like _you’re just like your brother._ (He’s not. Leon’s never met Erik, but Emil isn’t comparable. To anyone.)

There are… other concerns, too. Leon feels like kissing Emil at almost _every_ opportunity, and there’s only so many times one can convince themselves they _just_ want to kiss someone, but Leon’s not even sure _how_ one has sex in a car. It’d involve being in the backseat, probably, but how do you find somewhere _that_ abandoned? And how do you―

He’s not going to think about it. That’s the key. If it’s out of sight, it’s out of mind. Sure, it’s _never_ completely out of sight. Emil is beside Leon nearly 24/7, and it feels _terrible._ Like your stomach being lined with something sticky―cotton candy―while butterflies fly around in it. Leon hates it.

It’s… nice, too. Emil’s hands are always cold, and whenever Leon touches them, they get warm. They create a perfect temperature together, and all that other sappy shit that’s accurate to the representation of their relationship. Leon loves, _loves_ that.

Leon tries to close his eyes, tries to will himself to the point of being unconscious. His brain disagrees though. _Clearly_ they have to do more exploration of Leon’s romantic inclinations towards Emil. _Clearly._

All he can see behind his eyelids is Emil, and all he can think about it Emil. It sucks, it sucks, _it sucks._ It sucks complete ass.

When he does sleep, he dreams about himself and Emil. Mostly memories, when Leon was hiding who he was and Emil already knew.

* * *

 Emil kisses Leon when he wakes up. It’s tired, and they both taste like the morning, but it’s soft and Emil mumbles that he’s so, _so_ in love with Leon.

And Leon knows. He knows that it’s stupid and that they’re _dumb, risk-taking teenagers,_ but he’s so, _so_ in love with Emil. It hurts and it heals and it’s the most confusing, upsetting feeling he’s ever felt, but it feels _right._

It feels like it was meant to be.

In order to kiss Emil and not move to the backseat (and Leon would love to suggest moving to the backseat, but there’s something about backseat kissing that he associates with dry handjobs and steam on windows) Leon has to open the door to the driver’s seat. That’s mostly so he has legroom.

It’s really awkward. Leon is sort of straddling Emil, and it’s very obviously having an effect on the both of them. More so Emil than Leon. (Different parts)

The sun shines through the windows, because Leon has the best timing possible. Making out with one’s boyfriend at eight in the morning, in a parking lot, when even the sun is out to judge you. Great foresight on his part, truly.

And the _kissing._ The kissing is good, _so good._ There is so much friction, and neither of them are used to being this close to each other. Of course, now there isn’t much danger of being walked in on and outed to the whole neighborhood, so it’s different.

Leon’s hands are in Emil’s hair, and Emil’s hands are stuck on Leon’s waist. They both taste like mentos and cereal bars. “I love you.” Leon whispers, “I love you so much.”

“Same.” Emil says, and Leon pulls away, laughing. Then, for a moment, they just look at each other. For that moment, they are stuck in the sunlight and caught in each other’s gaze. It’s a flawless moment, and Leon’s nerve disintegrates in said sunlight.

They kiss again, and again, and Leon loves being close to Emil. Emil is soft and beautiful and familiar, and Leon can’t think about anything but him, and yet still his hands shake and his mind races to a million different places.

For Emil it’s different. Touching Leon feels like touching something precious, not necessarily fragile, but worth more than he could ever be. He can only think about one or two things at a time when touching Leon, and one of those things is always _Leon._

There’s not much that comes out of this. Leon is still _horrified_ by the fact that he’s so enamored with Emil. (He’s seventeen. You’re not supposed to fall in love, not _real love_ with someone when you’re seventeen. You’re not supposed to run away with them)

They pull away from each other eventually, and they keep looking at each other. Staring at each other and wondering _how._ (For Leon it’s an if. _If_ this isn’t love, like, real love, he’s terrified by the idea of what real love is like)

“I, uh…” Leon can’t make the words form sentences, “Do you, like, wanna stop?” He asks, because it’s been five seconds between his mouth being on Emil’s and not being on it, and he can’t fathom why.

“Do you?” Emil asks, and Leon _doesn’t know._

“I…” Leon bites his lip, and he _can’t believe_ that his body is doing this to him. Knots of confusion bundle in his stomach, blankets of anxiety spreading over his skin. “I… I don’t know, maybe? Like, I really can’t… I can’t think about it.”

He can’t, he can’t, _he can’t._ If he thinks about it he’ll be even more scared. “No.” He settles, “I really, really want to, but I don’t… I don’t think I can?” He’d be too scared, too insecure. Emil would see all of him, and Leon can’t stand the thought of going a moment without his binder (He wonders how he got so far without it. He takes it off when he sleeps, and he doesn’t even like doing that), or the thought of someone, someone like Emil, who is perfect, looking at all the parts that Leon has fretted over forever.

Emil nods in understanding, even though Leon questions if he understands. “It’s cool.” He says. It isn’t cool, not to Leon. “Do you mind…?” Leon climbs into the passenger seat. Disappointment sets in his system like a communicated disease.

“No need to rush.” Emil says, and he’s hunched over in that weird _boy-hiding-a-boner_ stance. “You wanna stop to get snacks?”

“Yeah.” Leon says. He can’t stop thinking. He hates it, he hates it, he _hates it._ He just wants to turn his brain off for a few minutes. “Like, yeah. Maybe we could eat somewhere cheap?”

Emil nods, “Sounds good,” He says, and he turns the car on. He drives.

* * *

Emil is embarrassed, but that’s normal. The fact that his erection was directly against Leon for what seems like an unimaginably long time for Leon not to notice might be the cause of that.

Of course, then there’s other things. Emil doesn’t stop thinking about it, right away. He thinks about Leon and how, _God,_ Leon looked perfect in the sun. The light shrouded him like a halo, and Emil couldn’t stop _staring_ and he couldn’t stop _thinking,_ because Leon looked like (and very likely is) some kind of angel.

Of course, Emil has known Leon for a long time, they’re _boyfriends_. Of course he knows Leon well. Yet he doesn’t remember Leon ever being this… much. Too much to look at and too much to think about. Leon was always the best thing about living in his neighborhood. The best thing to look at and the best thing to think about.

Now, glancing at Leon makes his face heat up and his feelings swell in his chest. All he can think about is Leon and how the sun seemed to get stuck as Leon’s spotlight.

Then he thinks about similar things that have happened before. After he found out he was _definitely_ crushing on Leon, he couldn’t even look at him without burying his face in his hands because _why was someone so perfect looking at him? Unfair._ Of course, now he and Leon are in a relationship, which is better. Emil likes the fact that he can think about kissing Leon and it’s normal. He likes the idea of going farther, too, but he doesn’t think about that. Of course, not thinking about either of those things is difficult, because not thinking of Leon is difficult and _ugh._

 _Eyes on the road,_ he reminds himself. He’s in a car. He’s got a great excuse to avoid looking at Leon and his stupid, beautiful face. The ride is quiet, and Emil’s awkwardness seems almost tangible, but he doesn’t have to look at Leon and think about kissing him or going any further with him.

Leon yawns, stretching his arms over his head, and Emil takes one _stupid_ glance and sees Leon’s midriff. Suddenly his face is warm and he has to tear his gaze away from Leon and his stupidly attractive _everything._ He turns the music up and tightens his grip on the steering wheel.

It’s a long ride.

* * *

They eat at a town diner that serves breakfast for twenty four hours a day. They share a plate of pancakes, because Leon doesn’t feel like eating. Thinking always ruins his appetite.

Leon stabs a fork into the pancakes, glancing at Emil before offering the food to him. “Eat.” Emil raises an eyebrow, and Leon explains with an eyeroll, “I wanna do the cute thing. Where couples feed each other.” He says.

“That’s more an annoying thing than anything, but all right.” Emil says, eating the food. He then takes a forkful of pancake and offers it to Leon. “If we’re going to be an obnoxious couple who feed each other, we might as well be an obnoxious couple who take turns.”

Leon rolls his eyes. “You’re such a dork.” He eats. They take turns offering forkfuls to each other. It’s stupid, and adorable. Leon manages not to think for at least ten minutes. A woman walks past their booth and complains about the PDA.

* * *

Leon is in charge of the music they play during the drive, because Leon loves filling the silence. “What do you want to listen to?” He asks when they get back in the car.

Emil shrugs, “Anything’s good.” He says. Leon raises an eyebrow.

“Anything?” He asks.

“Yeah.”

The iconic beginning of a Rick Astley song plays within a few seconds. Leon can barely keep himself from cackling. “Rekt.” He manages.

“I’m embarrassed to be in love with you.” Emil says, deadpan, and Leon smiles, because Emil said _in love._ He did it before humming _never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down,_  under his breath, but he said it.

“Same.” Leon says, and he can’t wipe the smile of his face for a few seconds. Then he catches himself thinking again. This time, it’s less worrying, and he’ll always welcome less worrying.

* * *

“I got snacks.” Leon says, opening the door and sliding into the passenger seat. They’re in a gas station parking lot, resting before another day of driving. “I even got these gross chips you like.” He tosses the bag of chips at Emil.

“You mean Lays?” Emil raises an eyebrow.

Leon looks at him with narrowed eyes, his tone deadpan. “Air.” He says, simply.

“Greek tzatziki Lays.” Emil corrects, opening the bag.

“Tasteless air.” Leon says, dead serious. He holds his seriousness for a few more seconds before he falls apart in laughter.

Afterwards, he and Emil can’t help but laugh when they think of the interaction. “You’re such a meme.” Emil laughs, and that makes Leon laugh. They laugh, and it fills the silence.

* * *

Later, Leon can’t sleep, so he stares and the ceiling and finds himself thinking about how when they first met, Emil thought that Leon was the epitome of _cool._

Of course, Leon’s done a lot of cool things for Emil. They had their first kiss in a public pool that they entered after it was closed. Leon’s sister used to work there. She never gave back her key, and Leon owes her a million favors because she let him borrow it.

 _Hey,_ Leon remembers tugging on Emil’s sleeve and nagging him, _This’ll be the best thing I’ve ever done for you._ It was, he hopes. Maybe not. Leon’s done a lot of things for Emil, he wants to do more.

Emil sleeps in the front seat, because he _insisted_ that Leon sleep in the back. Which is incredibly dumb, by the way. Leon deserves to be a good boyfriend once in a while. Emil can’t hog all the Good Boyfriend opportunities.

Emil is a good boyfriend, jokes aside. He’s doing everything he can, and Leon never had to ask. He never needed to beg Emil for a chance. Emil wanted to. He wanted to be as good as he could be. It hurts to think about that, because sometimes Leon wonders if he’s even what Emil deserves.

He doesn’t want to think about this. Leon doesn’t want to think about anything.

Leon thinks about his phone, which he turned off. (His parents called him a few times. He didn’t want to think about them. He didn’t want to care about people who didn’t care about him.)

He climbs into the front seat, opening the door. When he’s out of the car, he calls his sister. When he tells her where he is, what he’s planning to do, she gets sad, and then she gets angry.

“Fucking dad.” She hisses, _“Fucking mom.”_ Leon listens as she belts out a line of swears. “I’m gonna call them. Tell them to go fuck themselves.”

“Don’t.” He says. “It’s cool, Mei. I’m cool.”

She’s silent, and Leon hears shuffling over the phone. “If you can’t…” She bites her lip, “If you can’t stay there, at your boyfriend’s house. If something happens, or they can’t keep you for long, you have me. I mean, it’s Canada, but it’s home.”

“Thanks.” He says, and he wants to cry. A lot. He’s not sure why. Maybe it’s the inherent hopelessness of the situation, or maybe it’s because his _sister,_ who is twenty-four and clueless about anything she wants to do with her life, is offering more than his parents ever would. She is offering a home, and _acceptance._ Leon couldn’t ask for more than that, and yet he doesn’t think he could ever accept it. He shouldn’t. He doesn’t _need_ people to sacrifice everything for him.

He doesn’t need Emil to give up everything for him. It’s scary, the idea that Emil loves him _this much._ He shouldn’t. Leon doesn’t deserve that.

He doesn’t cry. He’s about to. His eyes are wet, and he leans against the car a little too much, and his voice does that stupid dry heaving thing, but he doesn’t cry. He just… really wants to. Like, a lot, but he also doesn’t want to sob while Mei is speaking about her girlfriend who calls her Meiyun when she wants to grab her attention. He doesn’t want to ruin a story about Malika because he can’t handle his own emotions.

He hangs up first, and by then, he’s too tired to cry.

* * *

There is a phone number that sits in the pocket of Emil’s jeans. It’s scribbled on a torn piece of notebook paper. _Erik,_ is scribbled in blue ink on the back. Sometimes, late at night, Emil thinks about calling it.

Of course, that would ultimately be the best thing. Give Erik a bit of a heads up. _Hey, you know how we haven’t seen each other in years? Well, my boyfriend and I are heading to your house because his parents are awful bigots. Also, I got a boyfriend._ Of course, there’s a part of him―a huge, all consuming part of him―that knows it wouldn’t be that simple. A smaller, more doubtful part of him wonders if Erik would ask him to turn the car around.

Usually these thoughts pop up while he’s driving, or trying to sleep, or doing anything that involves a degree of silence. The idea that Erik might not be prepared for this sudden load of responsibility. Not only is it Emil, it’s _Leon._ A boy that Erik has neither met nor heard of.

Still, Emil feels like they would get along. Leon is loud and rebellious and a _total meme,_ and at least two of those traits are something he has in common with Erik. (Erik was not very loud, ever)

Still, it’s been a long time. Emil’s parents usually defaulted to pretending Erik didn’t exist. They sent him money every few months, made sure he was _alive,_ but they never talked about him. Emil wonders if they ever spared more than a few thoughts for their first son.

Emil knows little facts about Erik. Things that his parents let slip out during dinner time or shouts that he heard from their room late at night.

Erik lives in a relatively nice house. He’s going to school, a community college, apparently. His house is small, and he pays rent on it, but he doesn’t do so alone. He and Matthias are still together. It’s kind of amazing, actually. They’ve been together for as long as Emil can remember.

Emil hopes that they have room in their house for two more.

He hopes that this plan works, and he knows that it’s stupid, reckless, _and_ impossible, but he also knows that it would be stupid and impossible to stay behind. To stay in a neighborhood he hated and pretend that he and Leon weren’t together. To claim that he didn’t feel a thing. It’d be impossible, even for a second, to call Leon _Leona._

So he has to hope that this plan works, because they only have one other option, and Emil doesn’t think he would ever be able to love Leon any less than he does now.

* * *

“Fuck, marry, kill…” Leon starts off. It’s the morning, but he has to start up a conversation. He wants to. “Šimon, Simona, and Lili.”

“Isn’t it kiss, marry, kill?” Emil raises an eyebrow, adjusting his seat so it leans back. They’re parked by a supermarket, having idle conversation while the sun has barely lifted in the sky. “And aren’t they all ace? Like, I’m pretty sure Simona’s aro. Leon.”

“That, my dear boyfriend, is the coward’s fmk.” Leon says. “Now, you still have to answer the question. Fuck, marry, kill. Šimon, Simona, and Lili.”

“I mean, aren’t they a package deal?” Emil asks, “They never went anywhere without each other. At least, Šimon and Simona didn’t. I’m pretty sure Lili only hung around them because one owed her money.”

“True.” Leon says, “I mean, I’m pretty sure that killing Simona or Šimon would be a bad idea. Like, they’d probably get back at you, or something.”

“Yeah.” Emil agrees. “And they’re all _ace_ Leon, and I’m _gay,_ Leon. Two out of these three choices are girls. Why are you like this?” He rolls his eyes. Leon thinks for a moment, before speaking again.

“Fmk, Sam, Dean, and Castiel.” He says. Emil blinks at him, before leaning forward and laughing. Leon realizes his mistake immediately.

“You fucking…” He breathes, _“Supernatural trash.”_ He’s cackling at this point. “Oh, oh God. I thought you were out of that phase. Holy―holy fuck―”

“Rude. _.”_ Leon says, and Emil makes a hand gesture at him, mouthing the word ‘boi’. “Now, answer the question. Three iconic characters have been presented to you.

“I’d hardly call the band of conventionally attractive, white guys you’ve presented me iconic." Emil still giggles a bit. “But if I must, fuck Sam, marry Castiel, kill Dean.”

“What? Dean’s the best character―” He stops when he realizes that Emil is still laughing. “Listen, you are a conventionally attractive white guy, stop judging me for sympathizing with them.”

“I’m a conventionally attractive _foreign_ white guy, get your facts straight. I have an accent. I know more than three facts about Europe.” Emil says, “And I didn’t have a superwholock blog for two years.”

“I hate you.” Leon says, retaining a dead serious look for around two seconds before laughing. “Shit, dude. Like, what are you trash for? _Sherlock? Game of Thrones? Mystic Messenger?”_ He says.

“All things that you were trash for beforehand.” Emil says, “A steaming pile of garbage for _Game of Thrones,_ you were.”

“Oh! Good topic. Fuck, marry, kill. Daenerys Targaryen, Jon Snow, Sansa Stark.”

“I’m gonna fuck Jon Snow. I’m _gay,_ Leon.” Emil says, “But… I don’t wanna kill Sansa. Or Daenerys. They’re both so good.”

“I, the pansexual, get the final word here. I marry Sansa, so therefore, I am the winner.”

“You know, Leon, that’ll be a difficult marriage. What’re you gonna do when it’s final exams and your wife is off in Westeros?” Emil muses.

“Clearly, I will be indulging my paramours, Ms. Daenerys Targaryen and Mr. Emil Thomassen.” Leon says, _“God,_ Emil. Who do you take me for?”

* * *

Later, after they finish their conversation about whether or not Superwholock was the end of all human civilization as we know it, Leon leaves to buy things from the supermarket.

He grabs bags of chips off the shelves, and some other assorted snacks. He buys Gatorade for himself, and some bottled water for Emil. He grabs shitty romance books, because when all is lost, he and Emil can _always_ laugh at terrible erotica.

When he’s done, he stands in the line and waits for it to move forward. The cashier is a young woman with a lip piercing and blonde hair hanging down her back. She wears a headband with a large white bow on it. Her nametag says _Natalya Arlovskaya._

“I like your bracelets.” Leon makes conversation while she’s scanning one of the books. His hands are in his pockets. She glances at her wrist.

“Oh, thank you.” She says, blinking. “My boyfriends made them for me. They’re very sweet.” A small smile crosses her face, and then, seemingly, she remembers that she works in retail, and it evaporates.

She calls him _sir_ while bagging his groceries. Leon can’t help the grin on his face. He thinks about it as he walks to the car. She didn’t refer to him as _ma’am._ She didn’t stumble through pronouns trying to find the correct one. She just said _sir._

It’s just… such a nice feeling. He can’t stop smiling.

* * *

At night, after all the driving and bantering and flirting is done, Emil lays across the backseat. He thinks about how Leon has eyes the color of soil and the earth. He thinks about how, when they first met, Leon pointed at a poster of _Wicked_ on his bedroom wall and said, _“Kristin Chenoweth is my hero,”_ completely deadpan. He thinks about how Leon smiles (the brightest, nicest smile) when he hears the words _he_ and _him_ and _his._ He thinks about how Leon’s favorite color is red and his favorite season is summer. He thinks about the fondness in Leon’s voice whenever he says _I love you._

One day, Emil thinks, he’d like to write about Leon. He’d love to write a bunch of romance composed of incomprehensible metaphors dedicated to his boyfriend and how perfect he is. He’d love to write books full of tropes Leon likes, just because Leon likes them.

Of course, this is in a reality where they aren’t stupid teenagers who are attempting to run away from their stupid, hateful families, but still.

(Leon is good at drawing. He could draw something to match the stupid, trope-filled romances.)

Emil hopes they have a future beyond this. He hopes that when they finally get to Erik’s house, when they’re finally done with this stupid, spur of the moment road trip, they have something to look forward to. He can’t imagine a future without Leon.

Or, he can, but everything he imagines has echoes of Leon. Any boy Emil could meet afterwards has Leon’s shadow cast over him. They couldn’t compare. It’s a bold statement. Emil hasn’t met every boy in the world, but he can’t help but see a universe in Leon. Something so vast and so complex you can’t imagine anything beyond it.

* * *

“This is the last day.” Emil tells Leon. It’s the morning. He readjusts the mirrors on the car. Dark circles mark the area under Emil’s eyes. Leon wonders what could have kept him up. “I mean, the last full day. The day after this, we’re pretty much in Erik’s neighborhood.”

“Oh.” Leon says, quietly. His mouth tastes like morning. HIs hair must be a _mess,_ and it’s the last day on this not-quite journey. “Oh shit.”

This is the last day. The last day where Leon can spend all day talking to Emil. The last day where they eat cheap snacks and whine about their deteriorating health. The last day they can kiss in Emil’s car and the last night they sleep in gas station parking lots.

This is the last day.

* * *

It’s mostly silent during the drive. Leon doesn’t hate it. He thinks about lots of things. The last update of _Homestuck,_ fictional characters he thinks are trans, the cashier with two boyfriends who called him sir, _Emil._ You know. Normal stuff.

Emil stops in the last gas station parking lot they’ll ever sleep in. Leon asks him if they can both move to the backseat so they can talk. They don’t talk. Most of that energy that could have been put into conversation or relationship development is instead put into kissing each other so hard that they run out of breath.

There is a lot of heavy breathing, from both of them. Emil’s face is red and he’s pretty sure Leon can almost feel the heat on his face. Leon really, really couldn’t care less. His mouth is on Emil’s mouth. His hands are tangled in Emil’s hair. Everything is fine, fine, _fine._

The friction is there again, and it nearly drives Leon up the wall. He’s so, so _close_ to Emil. They’re kissing, and Emil’s hands are on Leon’s waist, right under his shirt, and it’s _so, so hot in here. Too hot._

Leon pulls away for a moment, and he barely has to think before he’s pulling his shirt off. “It’s, like, so hot.” He says, and yeah, there are other solutions aside from getting undressed, but other solutions don’t involve Emil staring at him with wide eyes. Other solutions don’t involve being this close to Emil.

Emil’s hands are still, his grip tighter on Leon. Leon places his hands on Emil’s shoulders, and leans in to kiss him again. This time it’s softer. He closes his eyes when they kiss. He opens them when he pulls away. Leon feels drunk on Emil’s existence.

They don’t go past kissing. Leon manages to guide Emil’s hands to the straps of his binder. He manages to feel like Emil has seen _everything,_ even when he’s only seen what’s allotted in a PG-13 movie. He manages to know that, if they were more prepared, he’d be _so_ okay with going further.

He’d be so, so okay.

* * *

Leon wakes up earlier than Emil. He checks the time, it’s four in the morning. The sun is barely in the sky, but the gas station shopping-center is open for twenty-four hours.

Leon puts his shirt on and exits the car. He buys anything one would need to be _prepared,_ whatever that means. Wikihow suggests lube. And condoms. Leon buys those.

When Emil wakes up, Leon is texting boys from _Mystic Messenger_ and grinning at his phone screen. Emil tells him that they’ll arrive somewhere around three. Leon nods and checks his phone again. They slept in. They have three hours.

“Do you think you’re brother will be okay with this?” Leon asks this question during the first hour. Emil shrugs, and thinks for a moment before he can formulate an answer.

“I think so.” He says, “I mean, he sort of did the same thing when he was eighteen. So it was a little more _legal_ for him, but we actually have a destination.”

“Mm,” Leon says. During the second hour, he chimes in again. “You know, you didn’t have to do any of this for me.” He says. It’s a bit quieter. Emil really doesn’t have to do this for him.

“Pfft, I’d rather do this than let my boyfriend stay back there. Have you _met_ your parents? Or mine, in fact.” Emil turns the steering wheel. They go down a road that leads through a woods. “I’d rather this.”

“I have, in fact, met your parents.” Leon says, “I mean, couldn’t you just, I don’t know… stay back? I could deal with this myself. You just have to convince your parents that you’re, like, straight for a few more years.” He stares at the dashboard.

“Ah, yes. The siren call of heterosexuality.” Sarcasm drips from his voice as Emil rolls his eyes. “It’s different, I think. I kind of wanted you out of that house. You know, I don’t want my boyfriend dealing with shitty parents.”

 _Boyfriend._ That word is perfect, just to hear. “I mean, I’ve dealt with shitty parents for seventeen years.” He says, “I don’t want _my boyfriend_ to take on a huge burden just because.” He shrugs, and Emil sighs.

“Why do you always think you’re some kind of burden? I love you.” There it is again. _I love you._ Leon loves hearing that. It speaks to something deep and sentimental in his chest, but part of him feels like they’re _seventeen._ Emil can’t love him, not this much.

Sure, Leon loves Emil. So much. _Too much._ It hurts to think about it, because it’s embarrassing and painful and he would do anything for Emil. Why is Emil so willing to do everything for him?

“I love you, too.” He says, quietly. The silence settles between them. Leon looks out the window and watches the scenery pass by.

During the third hour, Emil speaks. “I wanted to get out, too, you know.” He says. There’s something cautious in his voice. “I really, just… there wasn’t anything for me, there.”

“I mean, same.” Leon says. “But you had more going for you, I think.”

“Yeah, but to be completely honest, Leon, I don’t have much if I don’t have you.” He sighs, and he tightens his grip on the steering wheel. “And yeah, I know that sounds like something a low-grade romance protagonist says, but… I really don’t have much but you.”

“You know, that’s what I’m supposed to say.” Leon takes a little while to speak, “If we’re talking about low-grade romance tragedies, I’d be the tragic protagonist―” Leon pauses, “Holy shit, are you, like, the white savior trope?”

“I refuse.” Emil says, “Listen, we’re not in a period where race is a _huge_ part of our story. So no white savior trope. Is there a devoted boyfriend trope? I’m that.”

“Nope. There’s a _Mighty Whitey_ trope, though. I’m just… I’m shook, Emil. You white-saved my trans, Asian ass.” Leon laughs, and then his laugh stutters into something quieter. It’s quiet again, and then he talks. “Mei offered. You know, a home, and stuff.”

Emil nods. “What did you say?”

“Not anything, really. I don’t think I can take her up on it. It’s Canada. They have bagged milk. I cannot live in a place with such an abomination.” Leon leans back in his seat, “Of course, that is balanced with the presence of Justin Trudeau and free health care, but yeah. I didn’t really say much, other than, ‘I’ll think about it’ and ‘I’ll call you when I get to Erik’s house’.”

“Okay.” Emil says.

“Okay.” Leon repeats.

Emil drives around the block a few times, when they get there. Partially because, while he’s been anticipating their arrival, and while he’s been prepared, he’s also nervous. A few drives around the block should be able to quell those nerves. At least a little.

Leon notices this, but he doesn’t question it. He thinks about the shopping bag by his feet. “Hey, can we maybe stop somewhere, like, private.”

Emil glances at Leon curiously, but he nods. “Yeah, I’ll look for somewhere.”

* * *

 _Somewhere_ is an illegal parking spot near the side of the road at least ten minutes away from where they were. Of course, this road is in the woods near their destination (this place is nearly surrounded by woods, it’s weird) and nobody has driven through it in at least ten minutes. It’s about as private as one can get, in a car, in a public place.

“Backseat.” Leon says, climbing over the glove box. Emil follows, and it’s all very clumsy. The _entire_ thing. Neither of them know the proper way to initiate a kiss, and Leon sure as Hell doesn’t know how to initiate taking his shirt off during that kiss.

So he decides to take it slowly. His hands in Emil’s hair. The kiss is soft, and he can hear the heaviness in Emil’s breath every time they pull apart. Sometimes their foreheads press against each other between kisses, where they look down and think between kisses.

Leon leads Emil’s hands to the hem of his shirt and lifts his arms. It takes a moment for everything to click, and Emil is quiet as he does so. “Binder, too.” Leon says.

He’d be so, _so comfortable._

It’s weird. Seeing _everything._ Emil has certainly… imagined these things, before. It’s always in the dead of night, when he’s doing things he’d rather Leon not know about. Sometimes after moments like these, when he and Leon go farther than what can be shown in a PG movie.

It’s strange, seeing so much of Leon. Mostly because Leon is beautiful and bright and it’s sort of like looking at the sun, except Emil’s eyes aren’t so much burning as it feels like Leon is too much to be seen. Emil takes his own shirt off, and it doesn’t feel so much like exposing himself as it feels like a sort of cheap way to be ‘fair’.

The kissing is different. It feels more heated, and Leon makes a joke about getting into the part of their movie that gets the rating hiked up.

“The awkward sex scene.” He says. “Where the writers want it to be as awkward as their own first times were, but they also want it to be a dreamy experience far better than they can actually imagine.” Leon shakes his pants off of his ankles.

“I don’t know if that’s a compliment or not. Or if it was just witty banter.” Emil says, and Leon shrugs. Emil really, _really_ can’t stop staring at him.

“A little bit of both, I think.” He says, and― _God―_ it’s weird. Being naked and in the same general area. Leon is far too beautiful. It’s too much to look at him.

“I love you.” Leon whispers, and he kisses Emil’s face. A lot. Emil kisses back, because this is the most he’s ever seen on Leon. There are so many things they’re unfamiliar with.

Leon acquaints himself with Emil’s shoulders, his collarbones, and then his chest. It’s all new skin, places he’s never seen before. Everything is pale and warm and soft.

Emil kisses the three beauty marks on Leon’s shoulders, and the one on his throat. He keeps his hands steady on Leon’s shoulders, because the idea of touching anywhere else is still strange and alien, but soon enough they move. His hands find themselves by Leon’s hips, and in his hair later on.

And all of this is terribly embarrassing. Emil has to pry his eyes away from Leon’s chest at times, which is difficult, because Leon’s chest is one of the biggest mysteries to Emil, but it feels _wrong_ to just blatantly stare and―

Leon moves one of Emil’s hands to his chest, and it’s soft and nice and Leon kisses him while holding Emil’s palm to his chest. He pulls away for a second, his and Emil’s lips just barely touching. “It’s just a titty, Emil.” He says, before he laughs out loud and buries his head in the crook between Emil’s neck and shoulder.

“Oh my God.” Emil laughs, “Have you ever been serious about anything?” He asks, and Leon shakes his head.

“Nope. I refuse to be serious about this. I was the one who had to stare a cashier in the eyes and ask where they kept ‘sex stuff’.” Leon says.

“You neither had to look them in the eyes nor ask for ‘sex stuff,’ specifically.” Emil says, laughing. “Oh God, it was a gas station mart. You didn’t even need to ask, you could have just looked around.”

“Like, if you wanna be _judgemental_ about it.” Leon rolls his dark eyes, “Sure I could have just looked around the store for longer, but that’s not the point of the story. The point of the story is that, like, the cashier, like, _definitely_ thought we were banging in that parking lot.”

“Oh my God.” Emil grins, and they kiss again, because not a second goes by where they don’t want to kiss each other. Leon’s lips are soft and perfect, which are two adjectives that are pretty representative of Leon himself. His hands are everywhere. They slide up from Emil’s shoulders to his hair. He moves his head to kiss the corner of his mouth, his cheek, just his face. Every part of Emil is beautiful and kissable and―

 _God,_ everything feels so sensitive. Like nerves popping up in places they weren’t before. Leon’s skin feels hyperaware of everything Emil does, and―

And his _hands._ Emil’s hands are mainly on Leon’s chest, because he made a titty joke and held his palm there for a couple seconds, but Leon thinks about what else they could do. Of course, that’s usually a thought that occurs late at night, when Leon can think of Emil and nothing but Emil.

This isn’t how Leon usually imagines it. Most of the time, when he imagines things like this, they don’t take place inside of this car. Usually there isn’t any risk of getting a ticket if a police car happens to pass by. (Though, when those two things are a factor, there’s sex-blurring steam like in _Titanic._ That way it’s dramatic.)

* * *

They stand at Erik’s doorstep afterwards, because it’s too early to sleep and Emil really isn’t looking to get a ticket for illegal parking. They wear different sets of clothes. Leon sprays the car with air freshener, and then fixes his hair.

They wear different sets of clothes. All the evidence is in a shopping bag which is promptly shoved in the glove department. Leon is an amazing actor, and he _definitely_ didn’t have sex with the brother of someone he’s never met before, and he didn’t do it twelve minutes before meeting them.

Erik doesn’t answer the door. Matthias does.

* * *

Erik’s house is pastel blue. The door is bright white. Matthias says that it’s newly painted. “We’re also repainting our bedroom. Mostly because the paint from when we first moved in was really ugly. And beige, which I guess also falls under the category of ‘really ugly’.”

Matthias makes conversation with the two of them in the living room. Emil and Leon sit on the sofa and wait for Erik to get back from work. Leon leans against Emil and watches a grown man grasp for conversation topics.

“Oh! Are any of you hungry? We’ve got cheese danishes in the kitchen.” Matthias chuckles after he says that, his smile is super white. Like, Trump supporter white. “Cheese danishes.” He repeats, and then seems to notice the empty blinking from the teenagers in front of him. “I’m Danish.” He explains.

“Ah.” Emil says, before glancing at Leon. “I’m not really hungry. You?”

“Nah.” Leon says, he really cannot stop fidgeting. This house is nice and clean and idyllic. Leon leans his head on Emil’s shoulders. “So, uh… you and Erik have been together a while?”

“Yeah.” Matthias grins. “Five years. We did a pretty similar thing to you and Emil, except there was no destination involved. Just some good old spur of the moment teenage decisions.”

“Tag yourself I’m the teenage decisions.” Leon says, and Matthias laughs in response. Matthias laughs loudly, it’s unsettlingly warm.

“This one’s a keeper, Emil.” Matthias says, a grin on his face before he turns glancing at the clock on the wall. “Erik won’t be here for a while. You guys wanna watch TV?”

They watch _Orange is the New Black._ Leon can’t tell if he loves or hates the newest season. He can’t pay much attention to it.

* * *

Erik is there around ten o’clock at night. His eyes (they are the bluest eyes Leon has ever seen) widen a bit when he sees Leon and Emil sitting on his sofa.

“Oh.” He says flatly. “Are you… visiting?” Emil shakes his head, and Leon’s fingers dig into the cushion of the sofa. This is weird. So weird.

“We kind of―well, not kind of, but, well… we ran away. Sort of.” Leon elaborates, and Erik raises an eyebrow. “I’m Leon, by the way. I’m Emil’s boyfriend. I’m trans, my parents are shitty. You know how it is.” He tries to make a joke. It falls flat before it even exits his mouth.

“Hello, Leon.” Erik says. His voice is at a constant pitch, as if nothing about this situation is surprising in the slightest. He glances at Emil. “And you came out to our parents?”

“I mean, sort of?” Emil shrugs, and he suddenly regrets not calling beforehand. Only a little bit. If only because this is so awkward. “I didn’t exactly say ‘I’m running away with my boyfriend, by the way, I’m super gay,’ but I think they could have guessed.”

“Probably.” Erik says, he looks at Matthias. “We can talk about this in the morning. I have a headache from work, and from thinking about our parents.” There’s a sigh on his lips, “You guys can use the guest room. It only has one bed, but seeing as you’re together, I don’t think it’d be much of an issue.”

“I’ll show you where it is.” Matthias says, and he leads them to a room that’s the apparent shade of beige he was talking about originally. It is _really ugly._

“Now, I’m not implying anything about the way you guys smell, or the looks you gave each other, however,” Says Matthias as Leon and Emil get situated. The whole situation feels… unreal. “If we did have condoms in this house, they would be in the laundry room. On the shelf above the dryer.”

Leon wants to laugh at that, but his nerves stand on edge. (When he and Emil are alone, and the doors are closed, and the lights are off, it still feels scary.) “I don’t think your brother likes me.” He says, it’s partially a joke. Emil shakes his head.

“Nah, he does. Or, he’s going to.” Emil says. They’re sitting on the bed. Leon leans against the headboard, Emil is still getting used to… everything. “You two are a lot alike.”

“Mm.” Leon says. He pulls the covers over himself. “You think so?”

“Pfft, I know so.” Emil follows suit. They face each other, it feels really, really intimate. (A tad more intimate than sex did. Mostly because that lasted upwards of two minutes, and Leon had his eyes closed for most of it, as did Emil) “I don’t know if you realize, but I’m related to one of you and I’m dating the other.” Emil trails off at the end of his sentence.

They stare at each other, for a moment. The lights are off and somehow, they’ve managed to pull this off. Somehow.

“I really, really like you.” Emil whispers, because saying it louder would somehow make this into a confession. “And I know that’s stupid, because I say I love you all the time, but… I _really like you._ Not just in the way where I want to kiss you or anything, though that’s a big part of it.” He pauses, and thinks. “I don’t think I’d feel right without you.”

“I wanna, like, be around you forever.” Leon says, and that’s dumb. They’re teenagers. They’ll move on, but Leon doesn’t ever want to. He doesn’t want to be away from Emil. It hurts to think about. “I really, really like _you.”_

They fall asleep thinking about _forever_ and _really, really liking each other._ Leon holds onto Emil while he sleeps.

* * *

Matthias and Erik talk about the situation privately. They stand on the front porch and talk about how this is a lot of responsibility. How unexpected it is. How they _need_ to help Leon and Emil.

“Shit.” Erik says as he paces around. “Shit, Matthias, what are we going to do?” He says, “I mean, _legally_ we’re supposed to tell the police, but we can’t do that―”

“I mean, what did we do when we ran away?” Matthias asks, and Erik stops. “We got on pretty easily. I mean, after the initial confusion what with stolen money and the fact that we lived with our neighbors for a while.”

“We dropped out of school, Matthias.” Erik says, his hands run through his blonde hair. “And we didn’t even have anywhere to live save for our car. We didn’t have any money aside from my mother’s stolen credit card, which got cancelled, and we both remember how that turned out.” He sighs.

“I know that, but listen, Emil and Leon are smart kids.” Matthias says, “And they have us. If we could manage to go from there to this situation, they can manage.”

Erik pauses, “That might be the most reasonable thing you’ve ever said.” Matthias looks proud of himself.

“It’s been a couple years, Erik. I can’t _always_ have bad ideas.” Matthias is a lot louder than he needs to be. Always. He spreads his arms over the top of the bench he’s sitting on. “Oh, by the way, I was thinking that maybe― _maybe_ ―we could go to Disneyland, as a _you ran away_ celebration.”

“And we’re back.” Erik rolls his eyes, a smirk tugs at his lips as he sits beside Matthias. He presses his lips to Matthias’s cheek.

“You know,” Matthias says, “We’ve been dating a long time.”

“Yeah.” Erik says. “And who says love doesn’t last?”

Matthias smiles at Erik, and kisses his forehead, and then the bridge of his nose. A soft peck on the lips after that. For a moment, there’s a peace that falls over both of them. Matthias remembers how, when they were younger, his favorite thing about Erik was his eyes.

They are the bluest, most intelligent eyes in the world. Erik himself feels like a crafted individual, with skin made of marble and hair soft as silk, but he’s far from delicate. Matthias knows that better than anyone in the world.

“You know,” Erik says, “It’s the middle of summer. We have time to figure this out.”

Matthias grins and kisses Erik’s the top forehead again. “I love when you relax.” He says, “I love when you smile.”

It’s stupid, but that sentence makes Erik smile. “I’d like to say the same, but you’re never _not_ smiling.” He says, “I love when you do that sappy… thing, where your face goes all soft.”

They kiss again. This time for a bit longer. Long enough for them to look around for neighbors when they’re done.

* * *

Leon wonders how many words it’d take to describe every detail about Emil, from his violet eyes to his soft lips and his perfect voice. How his eyes shine and a smile dawns on his face anytime he talks about something he _loves._ Like _Neko Atsume,_ or Leon.

How many words would it take to describe their adventure?

Leon lays in bed and thinks about how Emil produces coils of happiness in his chest whenever the thought of him arises. How he’s a sucker for _twenty one pilots_ and how he knows all the words to every memey song in existence. How once, he and Leon recorded themselves reading the entire Bee Movie script.

How many words would it take to describe someone so perfect and irreplaceable to Leon? _Not enough,_ he decides. There aren’t enough words to describe Emil.

Leon’s never been any good with words. Maybe he can draw something. Maybe he can make something great. Something based on his beautiful boyfriend and their reckless teenage decisions.

(Emil is good with words. Emil is good at lots of things that Leon isn’t. He could write something, maybe. Something to go with all the art Leon would make for his boyfriend.)

“So,” Erik says, “We’re going to have you two go back to school, but to do that, I need to be your legal guardians.” They sit in the living room. Erik sits in an armchair across from the sofa. “It’s easier for Emil, I’m his sibling, and you’re both a year away from being adults.”

“I’m kind of a burden, I know…” Leon shifts in his seat, it’s hard not to fidget when he feels like things are expected of him. It’s hard not to think about how _not-easy_ he makes this.

Erik shakes his head. “You’re not a burden. It’s just going to be slightly more difficult, trying to become your legal guardian.” He says. “We can argue it in court, but you didn’t exactly… know me, until a few days ago. It’d be a lot easier if I could get your parents to agree but,” Erik sighs, “I doubt that would be easier than the regular process.”

“Yeah, my parents would love to make things more difficult.” Leon glances at Emil, who looks back at him and gestures for him to scoot closer. He does. “I could, like, take a year off school, though. I don’t mind.” He shrugs.

Erik squints a bit. “A year is a long time, Leon.” He says. “You would miss a lot of school. You wouldn’t be able to catch up.”

Leon argues that it doesn’t matter, that he can wait until he’s a legal adult and work it out, that it’s his mistake and it won’t affect anyone. Erik says that they’ll think about it.

Leon deserves a break. All of this has left him tired, and he doesn’t even go back to school until a month later. None of this matters.

Nothing matters except the fact that no one has referred to him as a she for a week. Nothing matters except the fact that Leon has never felt more like himself than now. Nothing matters except that Emil is good and safe and Leon doesn’t think you can love someone you met in high school forever, but he can’t imagine ever being in love with anyone else. And for a moment, just a moment, he wonders if he’s holding on too tightly. He wonders if he cares.

Nothing matters except all of those previous things, and the fact that they succeeded.

* * *

“I, like, love you.” Later, during the evening, Leon and Emil sit on the patio in the backyard and kiss. Leon kisses Emil’s forehead. “I really love you.” He kisses the space between Emil’s eyebrows, above his nose. Emil smiles.

“I love you, too.” He says, and he can’t keep the joy out of his voice. “You’re perfect.” He says, “So, so perfect.”

Leon giggles against Emil’s skin. “I _know._ ” He whispers, and they both laugh. It’s so quiet outside, save for cicadas screaming against the trees. (Leon really hates cicadas. Why can’t they be quiet? Nature needs to stop.)

“You’re like, the best thing in my life right now.” Leon says, “And I gotta say, you’re pretty perfect. If I were ordering boyfriends online, I’d have given you five stars on Amazon.”

“Um, clearly I’m being sold on Etsy.” Emil says, and _gosh,_ they keep laughing. All the time. It feels so good, smiling this much. “I love you.” He says, “In case you didn’t remember.

Leon kisses Emil again, softly. “I love you.” Those three words are really simple. Really light. Really fitting. They kiss again, and they hear the sliding glass door by the house open.

“Ahem.” Erik clears his throat. “Matthias microwaved miniature pizzas and claimed it to be dinner. If either of you would like some, they’re on the table.” He steps back in the house awkwardly. There is silence. Even the cicadas don’t want to be here during this moment.

The door closes. Emil and Leon stare at each other, the deep sting of awkwardness hanging in the air between them. “Well―uh―dinner’s ready.” Emil says.

“Good.” Leon says, “Good.” He pauses for a moment, “Can you bring it out here?” He says.

Emil nods, understanding in his voice. “Yeah.” He’s gone. Leon is left alone. The cicadas start screaming again, but somehow the awkwardness doesn’t fade away while he’s alone.

There isn’t a lot of talking between Erik and Leon. Mainly because Leon is little more than a stranger living in Erik’s house and eating his food and dating his brother. (And sometimes watching television with Erik’s boyfriend, because they like all the same shows.)

And Leon is kind of scared, mainly because not being friends with _everyone_ in this house makes him anxious beyond belief, and partially because Emil seems to think Leon and Erik have nothing to worry about, that Erik will love Leon. _It’s only the first week,_ he says, _we weren’t even friends during the first weeks we knew each other._

And _yeah,_ that’s true, but they were friendly acquaintances, and Leon thought Emil was really, really hot. Like, super hot. So that counted for something. (Leon still had long hair when they first met. People still called him _Leona.)_

* * *

At some point, Emil leaves with Matthias to get groceries. Leon doesn’t know why. He wasn’t exactly complaining about eating pizza rolls for the past few nights. That was one of the best parts of this trip, and it was certainly welcome after days of eating nothing but snacks and drinking nothing but Gatorade.

Leon sits in the living room, watching _Brooklyn Nine-Nine_ and scrolling through his Tumblr. He’s been updating it a bit. _yes, i’m safe. just took a break from tumblr for a while._ He has nearly a thousand followers. He doesn’t need them to know that he ran away. They came for shitposts and the occasional confirmation that Leon was more garbage than they were.

He texts his sister. _i’m here, i’m safe._ He sent her on the first day he was here. He was elaborating now. _i’m comfortable, my bf’s brother is nice, my bf’s brother’s bf is nice, my bf is a gift from the heavens,_ so on and so forth. It’s all very reassuring stuff.

“We haven’t really talked.” Erik’s voice is behind him, and Leon jumps a bit before turning to see Erik leaning over the couch. “You’re dating my brother.”

Leon pauses, “I’m dating your brother.” He braces himself for the coming chat.

“How long have you two been dating?” His voice doesn’t lilt when he asks questions. Erik is just… flat. It’s kind of spooky. “Has it been a long time?” He seems curious, in sort of a flat way.

“Like, a year, I think?” Leon says, “I mean, it was pretty gay before then, too.” He shrugs. Erik hums in acknowledgement.

“Nice.” Erik says, simply. There’s a short moment of silence.

“So, you and Matthias have been together for five years?” Leon asks, partially because he hates the quiet and partially because that’s such a long time.

Erik nods, “Not including the years where we were friends with feelings for each other.” He shrugs, “It’s not as long as you would think.”

“Mhm.” Leon hums, “I don’t know, I think that’s, like, subjective. Like, I can imagine being with Emil for, like, ever, and the year we’ve been together went by really, really quick, but I don’t think five years would be ‘not as long as you think’.”

“It is,” Erik grins, just slightly. The sort of smile that occurs when you remember something dear to you. “extremely short.”

“Mm,” Leon hums, “So you’re, like, my gay superior? My gay Yoda, so to speak.” He says, “Like, I’ve never had a gay role model, so―”

“I mean, wouldn’t Matthias also be your gay role model, in that case? He’s even gayer than I am.” Erik muses, “We could both be gay role models. Leading two gays in our footsteps.”

Leon grins, “We’ve already done some of the stuff. Running away from shitty homophobic families and all. Next thing you know we’ll be living in our own suburban home taking in teens running away from shitty homophobic neighborhoods.”

“The cycle continues.” Erik says, deadpan. Leon laughs, and that makes Erik smile.

When Matthias and Emil come back, Leon and Erik are talking about the intricacies of different memes. Emil tells Matthias that he knew this would happen.

* * *

“I should get a job.” Leon says. They’re in bed. Leon leans against the headboard, listening to gnash sing over his earbuds. “I should really, really get a job.”

“What brought this on?” Emil has been perusing some of the bad erotica Leon bought from the supermarket. It’s hilarious. He reads the best quotes out loud to Leon.

“I don’t know, I just, kinda don’t wanna do school.” Leon shrugs, “And I kinda don’t wanna stay here doing nothing. And I kinda love money.”

Emil turns a page, _“_ _Does this mean you’re going to make love to me tonight, Christian?’ Holy shit. Did I just say that? His mouth drops open slightly, but he recovers quickly. ‘No, Anastasia it doesn’t. Firstly, I don’t make love. I fuck… hard.”_ He recites, then squints. “You’re attracted to women, right? Is this supposed to be… arousing, in any way?”

Leon chuckles, “Emil, it’s bad porn. You gotta accept that.” He says.

“But… someone sat down to write this. Someone wrote _‘no, Anastasia. I don’t make love, I fuck… hard’_ and they took themselves seriously while writing it.” Emil shakes his head, placing the book on the nightstand. “I worry for heterosexuals.”

Leon nods in agreement, “Don’t we all?” He says, but he stops for a moment. “No, but seriously. Maybe I should get a job.”

Emil shakes his head, “You don’t have to get a job.”

“I wanna get a job.” Leon says, “I don’t like being here, and sitting still. It makes me itch.” He leans on Emil’s shoulder. “I don’t feel like I have to get one. I just… want one, I guess.”

Emil nods, “Okay.” He says, “What kind of job, though?” He raises an eyebrow. That’s the real question. What job hires seventeen-year-olds who are planning to skip school for a year? (Leon is kind of, sort of, planning to skip school. Just for a year. Maybe. He hasn’t told anyone, yet.)

“Whatever’s hiring, I guess.” He settles, “We can start looking tomorrow, if we have nothing else to do.” He suggests.

“We never have anything to do, Leon. We’re reading _Fifty Shades of Grey_ because we’re bored.” Emil rolls his eyes, but he smiles a bit. Leon smiles, too. They have that effect on each other. Their feelings are contagious.

“You’re cute.” Leon says. “So cute.” He holds Emil’s hand.

“Um, callout post. Leon Kirkland forgot that he’s the cute one in this relationship.” Emil says, feigning offense. “You’re adorable, and short.” He kisses the top of Leon’s head, by his hairline.

“Discourse time. You’re the cute one. Just because you’re a giraffe doesn’t mean you’re not cute. You don’t have to be short to be cute.” Leon says, “And I am _not_ short, I’m average height.”

Emil blinks, “You’re short.”

“Evaporate, tall person.” Leon turns away, crossing his arms. Emil looks at him with confusion. Leon turns back around, a smile crossing his face.

“Did you just… quote High School Musical at me?” He asks, and Leon nods. “Why? Why did you quote a Disney channel movie at me?”

“Because HSM was a piece of modern art and i want it to live forever.” Leon says, “It’s a Romeo and Juliet story disguised as your average high school story, and it has the best soundtrack of any movie ever.” Leon says, a tad melodramatically.

“We’re going to bed,” Emil says, putting his hands on Leon’s shoulders. “You just said that High School Musical had the best soundtrack of any movie ever.”

“Controversial opinion,” Leon whispers, grabbing Emil’s wrists and lifting his hands off of his shoulders. He leans in, pressing a kiss to Emil’s lips. He pulls back, their lips just a few inches apart. “But Sharpay and Ryan’s version of _What I’ve Been Looking For_ was better than Troy and Gabriella’s.”

“Eat twelve dicks. Individually.” Emil says, and kisses Leon while he’s laughing.

* * *

Leon meets the neighbors at dinner one night. Erik invites them.

“I’m Tino,” A small man, a little bit shorter than Leon, extends a hand to them. He stands in the doorway with three others, one who is intimidatingly tall and expressionless, and two kids. One wears a blue hat and a smile on his face. (Leon can’t tell if his hair is dirty blonde or just dirty) The other stands with crossed arms. He has paint on the bridge of his nose. “This is my husband, Berwald,” He says, gesturing at Expressionless Tall Man (ETM) “and my sons, Peter and Casper.”

“Leon.” He says, “I’m―uh―Emil’s boyfriend. A friend who is a boy.” He stumbles. Tino giggles.

“Nice to meet you!” He says, and they’ve been shaking hands for an extended period of time. Leon wonders what the appropriate length of a handshake should be.

“Hey.” Berwald says, and it’s weird, calling them by their names. Leon’s only known them for two minutes or so. “Nice meeting you.” He nods his head a bit in acknowledgement.

Tino has tattoos on his arms, which contrast with the Suburban Dad thing he has going on. Leon can barely make out what a few of them are supposed to be. There are dragons and shit, and then a lot of stuff in Finnish. (He assumes. Erik says that Tino is Finnish.)

Leon has to look up to see Berwald’s face, and he has to do that for everyone, but it’s still kind of weird. It feels like a tall person ritual of respect.

At dinner, Emil, Erik, and Matthias have a long conversation in several white European languages that Leon doesn’t know. Sometimes they dip back into English, but they switch right back to some Nordic language.

Leon looks at the kids, who eat their dinner and talk about Pokémon cards. At one point, Peter asks if Tino can get him another glass of orange juice.

It’s weird, so weird. Leon has been surrounded by straight people for so long. It all feels… _new._ These are people who call him by his actual name and refer to him by his actual pronouns. These are people who don’t scold him for having his hair too short.

Tino and Berwald have _kids._ Leon could never imagine that future for himself. (When he and Emil had first gotten together, he had to remind himself. This won’t last _forever._ He’s been forgetting to remind himself of that. Mostly because he doesn’t want to.)

Their kids are cute, quiet kids. Kids who play with Pokémon cards at the dinner table and know Swedish, or Finnish, or something. Leon actually can’t tell. Tino mentions that they go to a performance arts middle school. Peter is thirteen, Caspar is twelve.

Before now, Leon could never imagine this future for himself. He could never imagine being happy, being comfortable in his own skin. Not having to pretend to be something he isn’t.

During dinner, he tries to imagine it. He thinks about if he and Emil got married. Leon would probably wear a dress. He’s thought about getting married _before._ It’s usually some vague thing, vows are exchanged, sometimes it’s a nightmare. Usually the groom is a faceless figure, because until a year ago, Leon didn’t have a face to put to that figure.

He remembers the best thing about imagining a marriage. The dress. He’s never really hated dresses. They were probably the easiest part about pretending to be _Leona._ He liked dresses. They were breezy, and he loved how some of them looked. He would most certainly wear a dress.

“How long have you and Emil been together?” Tino asks, interrupting Leon’s embarrassing thoughts about lifelong commitment. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“A year.” Leon says, and he smiles at Emil. It’s hard not to. Emil makes smiling so easy. “A little longer than that, if you count the _massive_ crush I had on him.” He jokes.

* * *

They watch movies that night, after Tino and Berwald and the kids leave. Leon and Emil and Erik and Matthias sit on the couch and watch _How to Train Your Dragon._

“I’m cold.” Emil says, and Leon leaves to get them a blanket from the closet. They snuggle underneath it. It feels so comfortable.

“I’m cold, too.” Matthias says, looking at his boyfriend.

Erik glances at him. “Congratulations.” He says. Leon can’t stop himself from laughing. Later, he falls asleep leaning against Emil.

* * *

On August fourth, near the end of summer break, Leon and Emil are taken to court. Erik and Matthias sign on as their _legal guardians._ Emil and Leon aren’t exactly sure how it works. Emil’s parents consented, Leon has to prove that his parents would never support him.

There was no missing person’s case brought up for Leon. His parents just sort of… forgot, he assumes. Maybe not. Maybe they didn’t care. (It hurts a little―a lot―to think about, but that’s more likely) Maybe they didn’t want to find him. Not when, a couple months ago, they called him their daughter.

The damage is dealt, though. It’s irreversible. It remains evident in Leon’s bones, in the way he speaks and the way he’ll never be able to forgive them. This has been the best month of his life, and that’s because this is the month he got to be himself. To be actually, really free.

On August fourth, Leon Kirkland-Wang is kind of, sort of, set free.

* * *

He and Emil kiss that night. They sit on the same side of the bed. Leon kisses Emil’s mouth and his jaw and down his neck. “I love you,” He whispers into his skin. “So much.”

Emil kisses Leon’s eyelids, his nose, his mouth. “I love you.” He repeats after Leon, “Too much.”

“Too much.” Leon echoes. “Like, way too much.” He says. His hands grip Emil’s shoulders. They wrinkle his shirt when he tightens his grip.

They are stupid, impulsive teenagers. They ran away from home because of a stupid, teenage decision. _Leon doesn’t regret a single bit of it._

* * *

Leon gets a job a week later. He’s interviewed at a supermarket, and is almost immediately given a job. Leon works at the register, and sometimes, when Emil visits him at work, he helps him bag groceries. Emil is strong.

“Ice strong land.” Leon says one afternoon. He leans on the register, watching his boyfriend place bags into a cart. “You’re strong and from Iceland.”

Emil rolls his eyes and continues bagging the groceries. He’d take a job here if he didn’t have school, probably. Emil isn’t taking a couple months off school. (Leon says a couple months. He’s not sure if he means that.)

Everything is good, and calm, and Leon has really never been happier, he thinks. He’s working on getting an official name change, like a new birth certificate. Someday, maybe.

* * *

(Years later, when all is said and done, after Leon goes back to school and Emil waits so they can start college at the same time, when they’re comfortable and content, and living in a college dorm room, Emil proposes.

He doesn’t have a ring. He proposes at their dinner table, when Leon is eating. He says something, like, “Do you want to get married?” and Leon says yes.

It doesn’t quite come as a surprise. Leon has been putting engagement rings on his Pinterest for weeks, but it feels so… good. Leon doesn’t think there’s a better feeling.

Leon wants to get married sometime in the spring. If they have any flowers, he wants them to be chrysanthemums, because he read somewhere on Google that they mean wealth. Emil just wants the wedding to be small, because large crowds of people are terrible. Leon agrees.

Erik and Matthias are the best men. Matthias cries, Erik smiles like he knew this would happen. Leon’s sister catches the bouquet, and her girlfriend―Malika, Leon knows her name very well― smiles like she knows something.

They honeymoon by taking a roadtrip. It feels very, very reminiscent.

They still have that car.)

**Author's Note:**

> this is bad im a terrible writer rip.  
> @slope_intercept ur birthday was a month ago but im a very slow writer. i hope this is good though!!  
> Sîmon = Slovakia  
> Simona = Czech  
> Natalya is dating Alfred and Kiku.


End file.
